


what happened while we were busy making other plans

by sparks_may_fly



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Humor, F/M, Get Together, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparks_may_fly/pseuds/sparks_may_fly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the last year of college before the group all go their separate ways and they're determined to make it one for the history books. For Tony in particular, that means finally securing the love of his life. </p><p>A year of house parties, road trips, broken hearts and even more broken Star Wars figurines ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Our last year awaits us," Tony Stark says, swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder like a soldier heading off to war- it seemed appropriate. "Once more unto the assembly hall, dear friends, _once more_."

Clint’s head pops up from over the roof of his crappy, blue Ford Fiesta, giving Tony a mildly concerned look. "You come out with the weirdest shit, man." he mutters before stooping to help Natasha with her abundance of bags.

"It's a talent." Tony replies with a sigh. Really, his impeccable humour is simply _wasted_ on these people.

He steps onto the gravel pathway which weaves throughout the entire campus, trying to think more about the crunch beneath his feet than the first time he stepped onto it- four years ago, standing five foot six in a pair of Italian brogues with the soles ripped off, contemplating why the trees seemed to be killing the clouds. Of course, he had been high as a kite at the time.

A lot has changed since then, namely becoming acquainted with the bunch of morons he now calls friends.

Speaking of, Tony casts a quick glance behind him and catches Clint checking his appearance in the car window for what must be the fourth time since they’d arrived and Natasha bitching about why the heck she’s dating someone who has more good hair days than she does. 

It's when Tony's walking towards the assembly hall, as soon as Clint and Natasha fall in step with him and he can picture them in his mind’s eye; walking in slow motion with AC/DC blaring in the background, that’s the moment Tony will pinpoint as the start of one fucking _roller coaster_ of a year. 

"Let's rock and roll." he says.

+

Now seems as good a time as any to explain how things work around here.

Firstly, there's Tony Stark, and he runs this show. If you don't know who Tony Stark is, you should probably leave right now. No, seriously, get out. Tony's only here because his dad paid an extortionate amount of money for him to be, and if asked, he'll tell you that he'd happily rather be anywhere else in the world (except that's a load of BS because Tony loves them all like they're family and at Christmas he becomes more sentimental than his grandma with a glass of sherry and the baby photos). Tony is waltzing through his university life with the air of a guy who knows he’s going to be successful no matter how bad he fucks things up. It should also be known that Tony Stark has a fan club dedicated to him, they meet every Wednesday night to stalk him from afar which _should_ bother him, only he spends most of his time encouraging the behaviour and occasionally sleeping with one of the members because- well, he's Tony Stark. He may seem like your typical playboy who thinks with his dick but the ones close to him know that his heart beats only for Pepper Potts. He’s been pining since the first time he saw her on the second week of freshman year and the fact that she thinks he’s a self obsessed prick who absolutely can _not_ have her, only makes him want her more. Because secretly Tony Stark is a twelve year old. 

Tony shares a room with Steven Rogers, and the only thing you really need to know about Steve is that he's actually a compilation of _all that is good in the world_ , squeezed into human form. He's also kind of the founder of their rag tag little group, though more than eighty percent of the time in public he acts like he's never met them before in his life (no _really_ ma'am _I swear_ ). He's the one who hands in his papers on time, makes sure they're all eating regularly and keeps the dorm as sanitary as possible, which, if your dorm is constantly used as a common room, is NO EASY FEAT. To put things into perspective; Steve’s like the group’s unconditionally loving mom, except if you try to mess with one of his kids, he won't _necessarily_ kick your ass, but my god will he verbally assault your morals until you’re forced to look at your life, look at your choices.

Next up is the group’s resident sports jock; Thor. He lives just across the hall, a fact that is made painfully aware whenever his girlfriend, Jane Foster, decides to visit. But by now, whenever it’s sex’o’clock on Thor’s watch, everyone else digs out the ear plugs without fail- they had to learn the hard way that Thor is a very vocal love maker. As well as his _enthusiasm_ , Thor speaks and acts like he's from another planet and you know what? _He might be_. Nobody's bothered to ask him yet because they're all kind of scared of the answer. Anyway, muscles and Barbie hair aside, Thor's really just a big teddy bear once you get to know him, he has a love affair with pop tarts, a borderline obsessive brother complex, and he doesn't _really_ believe in being fully clothed.

Someone who is all too familiar with Thor’s aversion to clothing is the physics nerd who bunks with him. Bruce Banner is his name, and he is one of the four loves of Tony’s life (Pepper Potts, Robotics and Loki being the other two). See, of all the people Tony Stark could have subconciously chosen to become his best friend/ brother from another mother; Bruce was probably the most unlikely. He’s a shy kinda guy who speaks with lilting tones, has a gentle disposition and generally keeps himself to himself (apart from when he's off science-ing it up with Tony in the labs). Bruce is usually in the background of most conversations, inserting sarcastic remarks every now and then- because, let’s face it, every friend group needs to have a ‘quiet-but-observant’ one. However, don't let the fluffy hair, crooked smiles, or ironic chemistry T-shirts fool you, see on occasion Bruce abandons his chillaxed attitude and just flips the fuck out and when Bruce gets mad, he gets _mental_.

Moving on; it is generally assumed that Clint shares with Thor and Bruce because all his possessions are in that room, but in all of the three years of 'living together' they have never _once_ seen Clint actually sleep in his bed. They’ve never once seen Clint sleep _at all_. You’d think the guy would be lacking in the energy department, but no, on his best days he has enough spirit to rival _Tony_ and then they both team up to become the world’s most irritatingly hyper double act. Aside from that, Clint is another sporting hero, more specifically; he’s boss at archery and is training up to become pro. Clint has always had great aim, infact it's popular university folklore that he once catapulted a marble at Fury’s face and that’s how the Dean ended up with an eye patch. Clint will neither confirm nor deny these claims.

Then there’s Natasha. She shares a room on the floor below with Jane and Darcy and where do you even begin with her? Let’s just say, when you’re talking about her relationship it’s always ‘Natasha and Clint’ not ‘Clint and Natasha’ (‘Clintasha’ if you’re Tony, but he’s just a dork like that). If you went around campus and asked random people to use three words to describe Natasha Romanov, you’d probably find a trend between ‘Hot’/ ‘Sexy’/ ‘Fit’ and ‘Really. Fucking. Scary’.That probably has something to do with the fact that ‘Tasha has this lethal smile which can melt many a brave man’s (and woman’s) heart. She’s studying something crazy hard to do with law and criminology, she can speak close to eight foreign languages, paint her toe nails whilst doing the splits _and_ can hold a discussion about forensic science with Bruce for more than two hours without wanting to kill herself. Steve thinks she’s going to be recruited by the FBI; Tony thinks she was recruited by the FBI at birth. That’s all well and good but to be honest, Natasha’s most impressive quality is that she has Loki _wrapped around her little finger_.

Loki? Y'know, Thor's emotionally stunted crazy little brother, Loki? No? Well, it’s a universally acknowledged statement that _he doesn't even go here_. Rumour has it, he’s meant to be roughly 3000 miles away at some sort of juvenile detention center for potential psychopaths. And yet, if you walk into Steve and Tony's dorm, you'll most likely find him spread out on the couch with a fatass book looking for all the world like he owns the place. No one really knows much about Loki, except that he took the news that he was adopted _really badly_ , and if you ask Thor about it, he'll clam up and change the subject faster than you can say 'daddy issues'. To be frank, Loki is just like the group's severely annoying housecat. A severely annoying housecat who is partial to prank wars, star wars and oddly enough- jersey shore marathons. If you feed him and give him affection every now and then, he can generally be left to his own devices, and it's pretty easy to forget he exists if you try hard enough (note: they _do_ try hard enough).

Sure, they’re an odd bunch, but Tony thinks he wouldn’t have them any other way.

+

Clint and Natasha leave Tony to dump their bags in their dorms, giving him the important task of saving seats for Fury’s obligatory work-hard-and-don’t-break-things speech. Tony makes a beeline for the back seats of the assembly hall, because, come on, with a name like ‘Tony Stark’ he was practically born for the back seats.

A group of kids, clearly freshmen judging by their eager smiles and inquisitive eyes, confidently swagger up to him, making like they want to sit down and that wasn’t gonna happen because he doesn’t want to hear Natasha’s ‘ _You had one job, Tony_.’ just yet.

"Sorry, punks, this row is reserved." Tony states, folding his arms over his chest in, what he hopes to be, an intimidating manner.

"I don't see a sign anywhere." one of the munchkins grumbles, copying the gesture.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you can see anything from down there, buddy," Tony says, "Try someplace else" He waves his hand dismissively and they stalk off, most likely muttering curses underneath their breath. Tony-1, Puny Mortals-0.

"You know better than to bully the first years, Stark." Tony swivels around to see Steve watching him with an expression of exasperated fondness. That always seemed to be Steve’s default expression when dealing with Tony.

"It's good for their development!" he replies and grins when Steve just rolls his eyes and takes the seat next to him.

It had taken a while for Tony to warm up to Steve. In the beginning he had gone out of his way to make Steve’s life a living nightmare- uncategorising his books, putting spoons in with the forks, etc (well that was _Steve’s_ idea of a living nightmare, anyway). But Tony soon realised it’s a physical impossibility for anyone to not love Steve Rogers, the guy was like a white, male Oprah.

Steve shakes his hand, pulling Tony out his reverie, and they clap each other on the back like manly men so that Tony feels oh so very grown up and mature.

Of course, that all turns to shit when Bruce walks through the double doors two minutes later and Tony squeals "Brucie!" in a surprisingly shrill voice and runs into his open arms.

"When you two are done being raging homos, some of us would like to actually get past" Clint calls from behind Bruce.

"Jealousy is a pointless emotion, Barton," Tony says, dragging him and Natasha into the middle of the embrace "Join the free love."

"I missed you, clowns" he hears Natasha say, and that's probably as close to sentimental as she'll ever get, he savours the moment. 

"Could it be that we are having a group hug?" a voice that could _only_ be Thor booms and seconds later, Bruce, Tony, Clint and Natasha find themselves smushed against two large pectorals, their feet coming dangerously close to lifting off the ground. Thankfully, they’re saved by the tapping on a microphone and Fury clearing his throat, Thor quickly lets them go and they stumble towards their seats, Clint moaning about broken ribs.

Fury taps on the microphone a few more times before just saying “Shut the hell up.” and silence promptly follows.

"Well that’s one way to do it." Bruce says.

+

Twenty minutes later and Tony is ranting about Fury’s incompetence whilst riding Thor. No- not like _that_. A piggy back ride, because Tony bet a fiver that nobody would be able to carry him all the way to his room and Thor was the only one stupid enough to fall for it.

"Now he’s just _taking_ lines straight from Dumbledore," Tony says, gesticulating wildly. "I mean have some class, man."

"Tony, I fear you have gained some extra pounds over the holidays," Thor puffs. "This is a most arduous task." 

Clint laughs and smacks Tony's ass while Bruce covers his eyes as Thor swings dangerously from side to side. 

"That was a low blow," Tony says and takes his T-shirt off, looking down at his body. "I've still go it, baby."

Of course this is the moment that Peggy Carter, their RA and Steve's epic crush, decides to walk by. She's wearing that pinched look she gets whenever confronted with Tony's face. 

"Stark, get off Odinson and put your shirt back on before I get you done for public indecency." she intones in her usual brisk voice. Tony hops down with a sigh, giving her a mock salute. Peggy is already turning her attention to Steve, though, she gives him a small smile. "Hello." 

Steve says something that sounds like 'nynmmf' before recovering. "Hi, can- can I help you with those-" he says, gesturing to her bags. 

"Ever the gentleman," she remarks, ignoring the gagging noises coming from Tony. Steve shoots him a killing-you-with-my-eyes look before taking Peggy's largest suitcase and asking her to lead the way.

"And then there were-" Clint does a quick body count, "five? I'm pretty sure there should be six."

"Yeah, where _is_ Loki?" Natasha asks Thor and gets a shrug of the shoulders in return. Tony thinks that accurately sums up their relationship pretty well. 

After that, Bruce, Clint and Thor file into their dorm to unpack. Natasha saunters off downstairs in search of Jane and Darcy. Tony's left in the corridor trying to find the keys Steve had given him. He's finally got them in hand when his dorm opens and Loki's face emerges. 

"How did you even- _I_ have the _keys._ " Tony says, Loki just raises a thin eyebrow and looks him up and down.

"My my, not even a whole day back and you're already parading around half-naked."

Tony grins. "You say that as if you don't like it."

Loki rolls his eyes and opens the door only a fraction wider so Tony has to brush past him when he skirts in. "Never that." he quips.  

Tony, Loki and Steve's room is unlike any other in the residence halls. Thanks to Tony and his ridiculously extensive trust fund, they have their own plasma TV as well as a fridge, one with the little ice dispenser, as opposed to the shitty little mini fridges in everybody else’s room. Due to these modifications, their dorm is used more for the group than the actual student commons. By far the most important asset to the room is The Couch of Many Orgasms. A monstrously large thing that was now more stuffing than leather. Aptly named so due to the fact that almost _everyone_ had gotten off on it. Yep, even Steve. 

Another thing to note is that it's easy to see the room has been split into two halves. Tony had found a washing line in the utility cupboard of freshmen year (back when he hated Steve's guts) and hung it from one side of the room to the other, exactly down the middle.

_Steve's_ side of the room is immaculate; he has the american flag nailed up over his always-made bed and a collection of his better art works displayed over his tidy desk. In contrast, Tony and Loki's side of the room ('Toki's Palace' as Tony refers to it because he really is King of the Dorks) always looks like a fucking tornado rampaged through it. They have a bunk bed (actually by _choice_ ) some of the girls he brings back think it's cute, but some say "You've got to be kidding me." and he instantly knows they're not good enough for him. Respect the bunk bed, okay? Loki sleeps on the top, Tony takes the bottom, though more often than not, Loki slithers into Tony's bed in the middle of the night but _that's_ a story for another time. There's dirty laundry everywhere you look, random spare parts of metal and posters of obscure norwegian rock bands that _nobody_ has heard of. The only neat part of their side is the shelf above the bunk bed which holds Loki's Star Wars related collection. Or 'useless crap' as Tony has a penchant for calling it, but really what does he know? The spare parts of metal belong to _him_. 

Tony dumps his bags on the floor, knowing full well that if he leaves them there long enough, Steve will throw a hissy fit and then promptly unpack them himself. He flops down onto his bed, beckoning Loki to join him, smiling at the long suffering groan of his matress springs.

It's common knowledge that Tony adores Loki. Like, full on hero worships him. It might be because the guy's a genius, or that he's batshit crazy or it might be that he just has really nice cheekbones, either way, Tony has always been a fan. Therefore, nobody is more jealous of Natasha's control over the younger Odinson than Tony. _Nobody_. "So, on a scale of one to ten, how much did you miss me? One being 'not at all', ten being 'so much I cried myself to sleep every night clutching a picture of you'" Tony asks. 

"Minus five, you insufferable being." Loki deadpans, stretching out next to him, all gangly limbs. Tony laughs and then kicks him in the shin. 

"Say what you want, I know you love me." he turns his head again before he gets a chance to see the curious smirk on Loki's lips. 

+

Later that night, when Steve has returned looking red faced and considerably more happier than had been a couple of hours ago, they order pizza and it really says something about their inability to cook that the pizza place answers with "Oh hey, Steve! Back at College?" 

That's how they spend their first night, anyway. On the floor, huddled around the TV, in the dark because there had been an argument about who should get up and turn on the lights with everyone making excuses about how comfortable they were.

They take turns discussing eachother's summer, Natasha leaning against the wall picking pineapple chunks off her pizza to feed to Clint who is spread out in her lap. Thor sits on a ratty beanbag that will most probably have a large ass cheek impression when he decides to get up- if he'll be _able_ to get up. Tony is sprawled out next to Bruce, listening to him complain bitterly about the cat, Mr Twinkles, he'd been paid to feed while his owner was on holiday. Mr Twinkles had apparently turned out to be the spawn of satan and proceeded to scratch the everloving shit out of him. Bruce rolls up his sleeves and shows off his battle wounds. Loki looks like he wants to lick them. Loki's weird. 

"Nobody wants the last one, right?" Clint asks, motioning to the lone pepperoni slice. There's a beat of silence before everyone makse a mad scramble for it, Steve muttering something that sounds like "So  _now_ you all get up."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor is a questionable team captain, Steve is a great peacemaker, Tony drops some change and nobody is too old to take their bikes to the beach.

The first week back at college is always the worst, Tony decides. Waking up to an alarm clock that reads 7:03 and realising that’s a time which _actually exists_ is never ever fun. 

Tony whines and sprawls around in his bed for as long as is humanly possible before finally accepting the inevitable and kicking his covers back. It’s only the fourth day of class but he’s already feeling himself slug back into the dreary routine, and if there’s one thing Tony Stark hates in this world, it’s routine. Life can never be exciting with routine, you have to switch things up, add a little spontaneity.

Loki's already awake with his feet dangling from his bunk as they always are when Loki decides to read in the mornings so Tony reaches up to tickle them softly, grinning as Loki's toes curl inwards and swat him away.

"Don't make me come down there, Stark."

"You can come anywhere you want, baby." Tony husks, pseudo-sexy and ridiculous.

In two seconds flat, Loki jumps to the ground and then he's invading Tony's personal space, tickling him in the spots that have Tony giggling like a little girl.

The door swings opens seconds later as Clint strolls in and promptly halts halfway into the room. "How you maintain the ruse of being straight, Tony, is _beyond me_ ,"

"It's Loki's fault, man, he's just so damn irresist- _oof_ " Loki deals Tony a quick kick to the solar plexus before sauntering over to the door.

"Good morning, Clint" he says, as if his roommate _isn't_ wheezing for breath two metres away.

"Mornin' crazy, how about giving me a hand waking your brother up,"

Loki snorts. "You'll need more of a baseball bat than a hand to complete that task." and Clint would have laughed if it were anything that remotely resembled a joke. But it's not. Thor is just _that much_ of a deep sleeper. In fact, it had gotten so bad that Clint and Bruce had chipped in to buy him a cool alarm clock in sophomore year. The ones with a little pad you put under your pillow that vibrate noisily until you get up. Of course, Thor had thought his pillow was alive and pummelled it to death with his meaty fists and well that was ten bucks down the drain. Nevertheless, Loki follows Clint across the hall, leaving Tony to flop onto the floor like a beached whale.

After ten minutes of coughing loudly and then accepting that nobody is coming to sympathise with him, Tony is halfway through raking gel into his hair when there’s a polite knock on the door.

“Tony, you decent?” and it’s sweet how Bruce still feels the need to knock when he’s seen Tony in all his filthy indecency and morning glory too many times to count.

“Never!” he replies and hears a muted sigh before Bruce pokes his head in.

“Dude, we have Selvig in like twenty minutes-” Tony doesn’t hear the rest of Bruce’s sentence, he’s too busy doing a little victory dance because Professor Selvig’s class is by far his favorite. Not only does he get to make everybody else in the class feel like incompetent fools, but he gets to do it alongside his best friend too. Plus, Selvig is the one who said Tony could give his father a run for his money, not only be _as good as_ Howard Stark but _better than_ , nobody has had that kind of faith in Tony before.

“Okay, okay, wait,” Tony swivels around from the mirror and spreads his arms out wide. “Be honest, do you think my hair look like I rolled outta bed like this or does it look like I’ve tried really hard?”

 “I-I think you’re asking the wrong person.” Bruce gestures vaguely to his own mop of unruly curls.

Tony ignores him and reaches for more gel. “I’m going for the artfully dishevelled look.” He says like that makes any sense at all.

“Yeah, it looks really dishevel-y, are you coming?” Bruce taps his fingers rhythmically on the doorframe and shifts from foot to foot but after Tony just pouts at his own reflection, he gives up. “Right. Okay. I’ll be in the commons, Tonetta.”

+

"Noooo," Clint wails, slamming his Wii remote down onto the coffee table. "Tripped by my own banana, oh the _shame_ "

“A hardy battle indeed!” Thor hollers. “The Lady Peach has served me well yet again!”

Bruce finds himself perched on Loki’s chair observing the ‘morning duel’ aka, Thor thrashing Clint at Mario Kart.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" he says to Clint who is now demanding a rematch.

"Meh, Coulson won't mind if I-"

Natasha rolls her eyes and takes this as her que to make a move."Get to class, Clint." she drags him up from the couch by his collar and Bruce thinks it's really cute how Clint tries to maintain that he's the boss of their relationship.

“Friends, you will all attend the game today, yes?” Thor asks. It’s the first game of the season and their team are looking to maintain their winning streak. Thor is met by a chorus of affirmatives, grinning widely back. “Excellent, then I shall see you later” he says and chases after Natasha and Clint before dropping a kiss on Jane’s forehead.

Tony bustles through the room, stealing a slice of dry toast from Loki’s plate and only ruffling his hair when he begins to protest.

“C’mon Banner, no time for sitting around!” he calls on his way out. Tosser.

+

Selvig is his usual straight-talking self. He doesn’t bother asking about their summer or blathering on about how hard the year is going to be, he just cuts straight to the chase and assigns them a project that’s need to be completed in a week’s time. Tony gets paired with a complete moron, so obviously sweet talks his way into working with Bruce.

Selvig dismisses the class, telling them to go make a start, so naturally Bruce and Tony have almost finished when Steve ambles up to them in the quad.

“Hey Steve-o, whatcha got there?” Tony asks. Steve is clutching a Polaroid camera in his hands like it’s the freakin' world cup.

“I’m using this for my final project,” he beams. “I've chosen my theme and everything,” he raises the camera and points it at both of them. “Act natural.”

Bruce quirks a small smile while Tony places both hands on his hips and gives a sultry pout.

“What? That _was_ natural for me!”

+

Tony knows he’s late to the game; he got distracted by a couple of Tony Stark Fan club girls that were wanting to know about his summer.

He quickly takes a seat behind Clint, reaching forward to plant both hands on his shoulders “Did I miss anything awesome?”

“Nah, Thor’s just, er, getting into it” Clint mumbles around a hotdog, spraying crumbs all over Natasha who swats him like a fly.

Tony spots Thor in the middle of the pitch who in turn spies Tony so he waves his hands enthusiastically, somehow managing to knock over a player in the process. Tony wiggles his fingers in return as Thor looks down at his fallen team mate, wondering how he got there.

Bruce spots everyone sitting at the top of the bleachers and makes his way up two steps at a time.

“Hey, how was Bio?” Tony asks.

Bruce huffs. “Uh, okay I guess. We couldn’t do the dissection though because somebody stole the rat.”

Tony laughs. “Any idea who?”

Bruce shakes his head, gazing off reverently. “No, but the biology department are taking it pretty seriously-”

There’s a huge roar from the crowd when Thor scores a touchdown and then proceeds to do the moonwalk. 

“Not milking it at all,” Tony grins fondly then turns to Bruce. “Come and get a hotdog with me” he yanks Bruce’s shirt sleeve and leaves no room for argument.

They’re standing in the queue for the vendor, Tony tapping away on his phone when he actually looks up and realises who’s standing in front of him. Bruce catches Tony staring and groans.

Tony would recognise that back of the head anywhere.

It's cool anyway, because Tony's over Pepper. Like, so totally over her he wasn’t even really that under her and - oh god.

Pepper turns around when she’s got her order and Tony’s brain somehow computes the movement into slow motion, her strawberry blonde hair fanning around and a dazzling smile spread across her face and she's so beautiful and he's so not over her and everything hurts but it's the nice kind of hurt and oh gross that sounds like something Loki would say.

Pepper has stopped directly infront of him and she’s mouthing something but he can’t hear a word of it.

“Huh?” he says intelligently.

“I said you’ve dropped your money,”

Tony looks down and yeah somehow his hands had grown slack and his coins are now scattered around the floor.

“Oh, yeah, doesn’t matter,” Tony makes a dismissive hand gesture and scoffs. “There’s plenty more where that came from, right?”

Pepper raises a perfectly curved eyebrow at him, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Whatever.” she walks away without a second glance.

Tony leans closer to Bruce. “I sounded like an asshole, didn’t I?”

“Little bit.” Bruce slaps him on the shoulder comfortingly.

“Dude, she totally hates your guts,” the hotdog vendor chuckles, because apparently Tony is not sufficiently embarrassed yet.

“Gee, twist the knife in some more buddy, I don’t think you got every single vital organ yet,” Tony spits.

Bruce shuffles nervously beside him. “Hey! Tony, why don’t you go watch the game, I’ll bring the food over,”

Tony brushes him off and stalks back over to the bleachers. He sees Pepper take a seat on the opposite side of the field, Tony feels like going over to her and screaming I’M NOT A BAD GUY until she believes him. It’s not his fault he turns into an asshat every time he’s near her. It’s just that, he’s never wanted someone so badly who doesn’t want him back. He’s not used to the rejection, and so the arrogant mask is just his way of protecting himself.

He looks up at Clint and Natasha. They sit with their bodies angled towards each other, knees pressed together and heads bent low, whispering into each other’s ears like they’re the only two people in the world that exist. He wants that. The easy intimacy, the feeling of adjusting yourself around another person like they’re your centre of gravity.

It’s like an itch at the pit of his stomach; he gazes back over at Pepper, now chatting animatedly with her friend. _You’d be good for me_ , he thinks, and he’s determined to prove it.

+

Loki walks towards the field grudgingly; he doesn’t even know why he’s here. It’s not like his brother needs his support with Jane sitting on the front row chanting his name at every given opportunity.

But it’s better than sitting in the dorm alone, pretending to work when his mind is otherwise occupied.

As if on queue, He spots Tony standing in the shade of the bleachers. He’s staring at Pepper again with that sad, wistful look on his face, the one that has Loki repeating his mantra to himself again; _get over him_.

Loki’s never spoken two words to Pepper in his entire life but he thinks she belongs in the same box as Jane.

His heart feels like an anchor in his chest when he stumbles back the way he came.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Loki grits his teeth and spares a glance over his shoulder to see Steve beckoning him.

“Nowhere in particular,” he puts on a wry smile but Steve catches Loki’s eyes dancing to the left, follows his line of sight to see Tony taking his seat behind Natasha and Clint. He gives him this almost knowing look that Loki really despises. Steve doesn’t know anything, _none of them_ do.

“Well c'mon,” Steve says and waits for Loki to join him.

+

“Where the hell did you spring from?” Tony asks, offering Loki a bite of his hotdog when he slides down next to him.

Loki ignores him in favour of observing the mini fight that had just broken out on the field.

Thor seems to be demonstrating on the football how he’s going to crush the other captain’s head. Coach Phillips is restraining him by grabbing hold of his biceps and driving his feet into the mud, Thor doesn’t seem to notice.

“Fight! Fight! Fi- ow _jeez_ Tasha!” Clint whines after she clips his ear.

Steve shakes his head. “This isn’t right.” He mutters and makes his way down to the field.

“What’s he doing?” Bruce wonders mildly.

Steve's voice drifts up to them, louder than anyone else. He has a placating hand on each of the captain’s shoulders and is looking between them like a goddamn referee. "Guys, guys, can't we just talk this out?"

"Oh god, no" Tony murmurs, slipping lower into his seat.

"Just shake hands and move on, alright?" Steve says, as they both look at him like he’s crazy.

"He _wouldn't_ ,"

Steve takes both their hands and forces them to meet until both captains reluctantly shake hands and walk away from each other.

"He would." Loki grins

"See? That wasn't so hard was it, guys? Guys?"

+

The game is called a draw and Thor sulks when he comes out of the changing rooms, where they’re all waiting, gathered around a brick wall.

Jane rushes over to him and envelopes him into a big hug. “You were brilliant!”

“He threatened to maim the other team, what part of that is brilliant?” Loki says loftily. Jane shoots him a withering look which he ignores.

“My brother is right, I lost my composure,” Thor hangs his head like a kicked puppy. “It shan’t happen again.”

“Cheer up, big guy,” Tony offers, punching his arm lightly. “We’ve got a free night, what do you feel like doing?” Thor merely shrugs, nestling closer to Jane’s side.

"Why don't we take our bikes to the beach?" _like we used to_ , Steve doesn't say but he doesn't need to, it hangs in the air fond and heavy.

"Really? Now we've finally got cars you want to go out on your _bike_?" Clint exclaims.

Steve just smiles. "Sure! It'll be fun."

Clint pauses for a second before shrugging one shoulder. "Yeah, alright" he says, nonchalant, but Steve can totally see the excitement bubbling underneath his surface.

+

The beach is only a ten minute walk away and is near deserted when they get there. The weather isn’t great, white clouds tinged with grey roll across the sky threatening to burst at any moment.

Natasha has her eyes squeezed shut claiming she can’t watch ‘that hooligan make a fool of himself’ when Clint speeds past on his BMX, zooming along the rickety jetty and braking just in time to save him from a cold dip over the edge.

Thor laughs heartily and joins him, somehow managing to look manly on a bright pink mountain bike with little tassels on the handlebars. Sif’s parents had bought it for her when she was fifteen, clearly not knowing how much Sif would hate it. So she gave it to Thor for him to do his paper rounds on, it was meant to be a joke but he’d grown so attached to the thing that he’d decided to keep it and gave anyone a death glare if they tried to laugh. 

Steve is clutching his camera in hand when Tony pounces on him from behind. "You want a kodak moment, Picasso? Get my good side," he says before sprinting towards the sea, stripping off as he goes. 

"Holy _shit_!" he cries when he's engulfed by a most probably freezing wave.  

It takes all of about three seconds before Clint and Thor decide to join him.

Steve takes the picture then, grinning behind the lens while Natasha berates them all and Loki hides a smile behind his hand. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky has another not-moment, Clint wears tight stockings, Bruce knows a lot about hearts and Loki gets laid at a Halloween party. So does Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos/comments, you're all so lovely, have an extra long chapter!

Steve works in the diner just outside of campus. It’s a sixties style shabby kind of place complete with a checkered vinyl floor and a temperamental juke box that only seems to work if you ask it nicely. The place is owned by Mrs Barnes, whose son Steve has been best friends with for as long as he can remember.

He doesn’t get paid a lot but it’s nice to just be larking around with Bucky in the evenings, especially since now Bucky’s finished college and Steve doesn’t get to see him as much as he would like to.

Plus, the others are around often enough, piling into one booth even though _there are plenty of chairs you can pull up guys_ and generally making a nuisance of themselves. 

This is exactly what they’re doing when he strolls in on a Friday night, getting their dirty feet all over the blizzard blue seats, chatting excitedly about the upcoming Halloween party being hosted at Tony’s house.

Halloween seems to have rolled around before he’d had time to blink, and it's always such an auspicious occasion steeped in tradition. By which is meant; it's the same as any other holiday only they get to be drunk whilst dressed like total tools.

He drags a chair over to them, rapping on Tony’s knees until he gives in and takes his feet off the leather with an exaggerated groan, lolling his head onto Loki’s shoulder.

“Where’s Thor?” Steve asks, spotting the only missing person.

“Movies with Jane.” Bruce says without looking up from the textbook he has spread out on the table that takes up most of the space. “Tony, I found another mistake, this part here about the wave particle duality-“

Clint waves his hands frantically to cut him off. “Hey no science talk at the table, it puts me off my food!”

Bruce mutters a sarcastic apology and shares an ‘ugh _mortals_ ’ look with Tony.

It’s Natasha who has the good sense to quickly change the topic back to the party before another Reasons Why Physics Is Awesome And Better Than You lecture can break out.

“What about you?” she asks, nudging Loki’s foot. “What are you coming as?”

Loki considers, sucking loudly on his milkshake. “A vampire, maybe, I’ve been told it would be quite... _befitting_ ,” he murmurs the last part into Tony’s ear and relishes in his slight blush.

“Make sure it’s a proper vampire, not a shitty glittery excuse for a vampire,” Clint insists, completely ignoring that little moment, or most likely, just not wanting to know the details.

“I _knew_ you secretly read Twilight!” Natasha smirks as Tony chokes back a laugh.

Clint looks ashamed for about two second before recovering to point his French fry at Tony. “You can shut up; I know that Fifty Shades of Gay book was _yours_!”

“Fifty Shades of _Gray_.” Natasha corrects and Tony abruptly stops laughing.

Steve looks very confused before he interrupts. “Tony, I thought you said you were using it for research?” This somehow makes Clint erupt into even more laughter, dropping pieces of fries everywhere; Bruce shields his textbook and sends Clint a dirty look.

“Uh, I was! I mean, I saw Pepper reading it and thought I’d check it out, that counts as research, right?” he swears as Loki shrugs him off his shoulder and he bangs his head on the table.

“What costume are _you_ wearing anyway?” Clint begins. “And no, nakedness is not an option.”

“Psht Tony Stark is a legend, Tony Stark does not need a costume; Tony Stark _is_ a costume,”

“Tony Stark needs to stop referring to himself in third person because it’s actually _really creepy_.” Bruce gripes, clambering out of his seat, around Natasha and wandering over to the juke box.

Steve chuckles and takes this as his queue to go and sign in/ find Bucky.

+

Time has this really disgusting habit of moving too quickly when you don’t want it to, and moving too slowly when you do. Bucky is having trouble with the latter.

He’s helping Steve load up the dishwasher after everyone’s gone, trying to go as fast he can because he’s got chores to do and a mountain of job applications to complete.

He catches a flash of red out of the corner of his eye and sees Natasha waggle her fingers at him from the front.

“Gimme a sec!” he signals with his index finger, handing Steve a ketchup stained plate.

He stumbles over to her, wiping his hands on his pants as he goes. “What’s up? Left something behind?”

“Tony decided he’d like a coke but apparently he’s too comfortable with his head in Loki’s lap to actually get up and buy one himself,” she mutters sardonically.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “If he wasn’t madly in love with Pep, I’d say those two have a thing goin’ on.”

Natasha speaks with this soft curve of her mouth like she's amused at her own private joke, like she knows something he doesn’t. “ _Yeah_...anyway, I forgot to say goodbye, so I volunteered to be Tony’s slave,”

Bucky smiles at the ground and sets the coke on the counter, waving her money away.  “Don’t worry about it,”

“You can’t keep giving free drinks to every pretty gal that walks in here, James!” Steve admonishes from the kitchen in a pitch perfect impression of Mrs Barnes.

“Not even the pretti _est_ girl, Mom?” Bucky shouts back and grins when Natasha rolls her eyes at him. He sobers up for a second as the little voice in his head tells him that now is the perfect opportunity to quit being such a baby.  “So, look, Nat, I was thinking maybe-“

“Tasha, you coming?” Clint queries, stumbling out of the toilets, giving Bucky a salute, with one foot already out of the door.

Bucky forgot he was still in there and he feels strangely guilty and queasy like he’s got caught doing something he shouldn’t be and isn’t _that_ just a warning sign from God if he ever saw one.

“I’ll be there in a second, do your flies up!” she replies with a partial grin and turns to face Bucky. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Bucky thinks this is another one of those times where he tries to turn nothing into something. He tries to create a moment by looking deep into Natasha’s blue eyes and striving to convey everything he’s feeling without actually opening his mouth. He wants _desperately_ for this to be a real moment of actual significance, one that he can look back on in years to come and think _yeah, that’s when she noticed me_.

But his palms are clammy and it just feels like he’s clutching at straws.

And it probably doesn’t even seem extraordinary enough from an outsider’s point of view to be a real moment; just a red headed girl leaning against the countertop, most probably getting mustard on her elbow from that splodge the guy behind the counter hasn’t wiped away yet, blonde boy at the back clattering dishes into a sink. Nothing extraordinary. Not a moment.

Just one pathetic guy making an ass of himself.

But Natasha’s face is expectant and curious and Bucky has words on the tip of his tongue that taste almost acidic. His face is flushed, he knows it is, because now Natasha is frowning and Clint honks the car horn from the parking lot and just like that the not-moment is gone.

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and smiles. “Uh, nothing, it doesn’t- it doesn’t really matter,” he flips a dirty dishcloth over his shoulder and thinks he catches a glimpse of understanding in her eyes before he turns around and starts cleaning the surfaces. “You’ve got mustard on your elbow by the way.”

He hears the bell on the diner’s door chime seconds later followed by the obnoxious sound of Clint’s engine starting up.

Bucky had chores to do and a mountain of job applications to complete, so he feels like an idiot later on that night for thinking the worst part of the day was that Natasha never did say goodbye.  

+

"Right, whose turn is it to be on Tony Watching Duty tonight?" Steve asks, arms folded, "Bruce?"

Clint flicks his eyes over to the R2D2 clock on Loki’s nerd shelf. It’s seven pm and they should have been in the car an hour ago if they wanted to to get to Tony’s place on time, ready for everyone else to arrive. Tony whinged about having a need to be fashionably late to parties but Natasha had said that did not apply when it was _your own party_.

"No, no and no," Bruce rises from the floor, with his palms up. "I took his parent's anniversary; I deserve a medal for that _alone_."

"Natasha?"

"Rhodey's 18th, anyone?" She offers as Steve cringes and Clint thinks about all the fun he’s going to have with how good she looks in that sexy assassin outfit.

"Fine, Thor, he's in your hands."

Thor nods solemnly and Clint tries not to laugh, hard to do when Thor is dressed as a scantily clad zombie (Darcy said they had ‘used up all the bandages’...yeah _right_ and Clint’s the Queen of Sheba). "I shall endeavour to do my very best."

"Y'know, it’d be nicer if you guys did this behind my back," Tony disturbs the conversation from where he’s sitting cross legged on The Couch of Many Orgasms, using Natasha’s lipstick to draw camouflage stripes on his face in order to complete his costume (he’d chosen to go as Rambo because it required minimal clothing and effort). "At least then I could pretend I don't know what you're all up to." Everyone spares him an uninterested glance before continuing as if they were never interrupted.

See, Tony watching Duty is exactly how it sounds. All you have to do is watch Tony. All night. Make sure he doesn't die, get lost, or end up in A&E. They even have a chart up on the corkboard hanging next to Clint's bed; he made it himself to turn it into more of a competition type thing because Tony’s continued existence just isn’t enough of an incentive for him to take Watching Duty seriously.

Loki finally appears in the room then, cape billowing out as he stalks over to the mirror to put fake blood around his mouth. He’s dressed as Count Dracula only Clint is struck by how he just looks exactly like himself. Okay, apart from the cape and fangs and fake blood, he looks exactly like himself. The pale skin, the freakishly sharp cheekbones, the slicked black hair, the bruised eyes? That’s _all_ Loki.  

The psycho in question notices Clint staring from the reflection in the mirror and licks his lips slowly offering him a sly wink. He fights to suppress a shudder.

“Right,” Steve claps his hands together. Clint takes a second to appreciate the bloodied army outfit, and hey he’s as straight as one of his arrows but _damn_ does Steve look good. “Now that’s outta the way, we should probably get going,”

“Roger that, Captain,” he says and bends to pick up his bow and quiver. Okay so maybe going as Robin Hood isn’t distinctly scary but he’d already had the green tunic and the little hat (don’t even ask why) and besides, Tony said he looked like something that would plague his nightmares in those tight _tight_ stockings. Clint was just going to go ahead and take that as a compliment, whatever it’s Halloween. 

Ten minutes later and they’re standing around Clint’s car wondering how they’re all gonna fit in because if it hasn’t been said enough before: he has a _really_ shit car.

“Loki can probably fit in the boot.” Tony jokes while Clint scratches his head.

“This is a five seater guys, there’s seven of us.”

Tony snorts. “A truly astounding display of mathematical genius from Barton there,”

“ _Eight_ if you count Tony’s ego. Which I do.” Loki retorts and high fives Natasha without looking at her. It’s really weird when they do that.

Tony just scowls at them before calling shotgun, much to Natasha’s annoyance. And Clint’s. Seeing as he’s the one that has to drive for an hour with Tony criticising every turn he makes and probably getting footprints all up on the dashboard, _yes_ it’s a shitty car, but it’s _his_ shitty car.

They all pile in, it’s a bit (a lot) of a squeeze but they manage it somehow and all join in when Clint flicks the radio on and Aerosmith is playing. It should be noted that power ballads are their forte and later in life, if all else fails, they’re totally gonna form a glam rock band.

Thor is halfway through a soulful and mildly disconcerting rendition of ‘I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing’ when Clint peers into the rear view mirror and clears his throat. “Woah guys, where’s Loki?”

There’s a beat of silence punctuated only by Steven Tyler’s dulcet tones in which everyone looks around as if Loki will magically appear in the car.

“He’s in the boot.” Thor replies.

“No really, where the hell is he?” Natasha asks. That’s probably when Thor realises he’s done a very bad thing.

“Oh, you _didn’t_!” Clint quickly pulls over and everyone tumbles over each other to get out of the car. They gather around the boot, bracing themselves for god knows what.

Thor swings it open and they all collectively inhale. Clint didn’t know what he was expecting but finding Loki curled in on himself with all his concentration focused on a game of Angry Birds definitely wasn’t it.

“Oh,” Loki says, blinking up from his phone. “Are we there already?”

+

Tony is the first to spring out of the car; he jumps up and down on the spot when he sees his house decorated for the holiday. The excitement he feels far outweighs the fact that this is just another time he’s coming home and his parents won’t be around to see him. The huge mansion is bathed in green lights and there’s smoke pouring out from the bushes. No doubt it was Jarvis’ doing.

Speak of the devil; the butler emerges from the house a second before Tony has the chance to slot his keys in.

“Master Stark-” he greets before Tony cuts him off by hugging him tightly. Jarvis gives Thor a vaguely concerned look from over Tony’s shoulder. Probably because some of the bandages are unravelling at rather- uh- _special_ parts. Darcy will be pleased.

“The place looks great!” Bruce beams from behind him.

“Truly frightening.” Thor agrees, casting an eerie glance around the hallway where cobwebs have been sprayed and there are fake skeletons and spiders hanging from the ceiling

Jarvis smiles benignly. “I know how Master Tony enjoys the tradition.”

People start arriving then and Jarvis props the door open with a carved pumpkin after he grows weary of hearing “Thanks Jeeves!” one too many times.

+

Tony spots Rhodey when the party’s in full swing. He pushes into the hallway where people are already making out against the walls and smoking up the place.

“Hey man!” Rhodey shouts above the drum and bass.

“Hey, is Pepper with you?” Tony cranes his head around in a not so subtle attempt to check but his friend holds him at arm’s length. 

“Sorry buddy, she said she had to take her niece trick or treating or something.” Rhodey explains and Tony’s face falls.

“Bullshit, she didn’t wanna come did she?”

“No, no she totally did, but she had to-“

“It’s okay, Rhodey, it’s fine,” Tony mumbles. “There are plenty of other girls that would kill to get in my pants, right?”

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “Glad to see this hasn’t affected your self confidence at all.” He claps Tony on the back as he passes into the kitchen.

 Tony huffs out a humourless laugh, “Sure.” He squeezes his way up the stairs to his room, suddenly not really in the party mood. He thinks about settling for a drink or quick shag, whichever comes first. Most probably the drink.

He’s right.

Two hours later, after he’s told Point Break to go enjoy himself and not worry about being on Watching Duty; he’s sitting on the balcony of his room overlooking the garden. He spots Clintasha wandering over to the bushes with Bruce and someone dressed as some sort of white soufflé.

He tips his head back, everything is so nicely blurred around the edges and he wishes he could always live life in this state of mind; high as fuck.

This is how Loki finds him, head resting against the railings and thinking about how great it is that the sky hasn’t fallen down on him yet.

“Shouldn’t the host of the party be downstairs enjoying himself?”

“’M thinking’” Tony replies, hooking his little finger into the vodka bottle at his side to swing it over the balcony edge like a pendulum. He likes how if he does it fast enough, the motion creates a rippling effect.

“Oh? About what?” Loki asks, taking a seat next to him and slotting his legs through the railing, feet dangling in the air.

Tony waves his around vaguely “Life ‘n’ love ‘n’ stuff.”

Loki eyes him critically before snatching away the joint that Tony is trying his very best to conceal.

“Heeey, don’t be _mean_!” Tony whines, expecting Loki to chide him and snuff it out.

But Loki just smirks and says “Don’t be _greedy_.” before taking a long drag from it himself. Loki’s good like that.

And is it just him or is Loki the best person in the world ever?

He turns to press a kiss to the corner of Loki’s eye, watching mesmerised as it flickers shut and his mouth parts.

“You like that?” he whispers because hey bingo, he has a drink _and_ a possible shag.

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s drunk or high or what but when Loki’s breathing deepens, he forgets about Pepper. He forgets that she is all he’s ever wanted. He just brings a hand up to the back of Loki’s neck and angles his head around so that he can kiss him, slow and filthy on the mouth.

His grip on the vodka bottle slips and he hears it smash on the patio, they break away from each other. There are screams down below and Tony bursts into a fit of giggles, lying on his back.

After Loki peers over and checks nobody was hurt, he collapses on Tony’s arm in peals of laughter too.

And then Tony feels the familiar heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, coupled with the desire to completely _take someone apart._ He cups one side of Loki’s jaw and bites down on his bottom lip hard and Tony laughs because Loki hasn’t taken the fangs out yet.

Loki seems to realise this and curses, reaching to remove them but he stills him and says “Leave them in.” Because he’s Tony Stark and he’s found something new to keep his mind occupied and if that makes him a bad person, he’s too drunk to care, because right now the entire world boils down to making Loki moan against his skin like that again.

If he can do that, nothing else matters. If he can do that, he won’t have to remember why he’s here. Why he’s not kissing Pepper instead.

“Tony, you’re shaking,” Loki gasps against his chin, pupils dilated enough that it sends a chill down Tony’s spine.

“’M cold,” he lies, so Loki drags him back inside, over to the bed and pushes him gently under the soft covers. It reminds Tony of being five years old, hiding while his parents argued downstairs. He feels so safe and content when Loki drags that stupid bandana off his head and presses cold kisses there instead. The white sheets seem to glow from the moonlight and Tony thinks he could happily fall asleep, but then Loki’s hand wanders south and no, he won’t be sleeping tonight.

Tony’s fingers stutter as he tries to strip his top off but Loki makes quick work of it and soon he’s lying there naked, with a body on top of him that is all sharp angles where there would have been soft curves but he doesn’t care because he’s groaning as Loki’s hips pin him down into the mattress and Loki’s hands are smooth as sin against his navel and it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters but Loki’s touch. And that’s okay.

+

Bruce has taken refuge in the Stark’s enormous kitchen. He’s sitting in the middle of the giant worktop surrounded by people’s abandoned drinks, silently contemplating whether or not he dares try the purple punch.

“There’s always _one_ who hides in the kitchen at parties,” comes a voice from the doorway and Bruce turns to see who he _thinks_ is Darcy Lewis leaning against the doorframe, it’s hard to tell when she’s wearing a huge wedding dress and an inch of white face paint.

“Corpse Bride?”

“Yup,” she grins and gives him a little twirl. “Have you tried the punch?” she asks, walking over to where he’s poking it with the ladle.

Bruce shakes his head. “It looks like my grandma threw up in it,”

Darcy stifles a snort in her hand. “I made it, and I can assure you there’s no grandma puke in it,”

Bruce’s eyes widen, “Oh, I’m sorry! It’s probably delicious, I just-“

“Hey, don’t strain something, Banner, its fine,” she laughs. “It does look kinda gross...”

Bruce scoops some up into a Dixie cup and takes a long gulp, trying to prove a point; he swallows too quickly and starts coughing. Darcy pats him on the back looking concerned. “You alright?” she questions. Bruce wants to melt into the punch and die.

But he says “I’m great! That was nice!” It probably would have been more believable if he hadn’t spluttered halfway through his sentence.

She laughs at how clearly he’s lying but holds out her hand for him “C’mon, let’s go find people.” she says and he springs off the worktop and takes it, feeling like a dork for the slight heat that creeps onto his cheeks.

“Lead the way,” he murmurs.

They push through the crowds of people, Bruce keeping his eyes open for Steve because he _so_ wants to witness his expression when he sees what Peggy’s wearing.

"Man, I love this song" Darcy says and tilts her head back as if she's in her own world. They’re in the living room, bodies swaying all around them, it’s so hot that most of Darcy’s make up has melted off. Bruce thinks he sees Thor getting off with Jane in the corner. The song playing is an Indie track that might be found on Loki’s iPod. It’s the kind of song that’s all rhythm and raspy vocals. Bruce feels like it’s the kind of song that can’t be listened to without transporting you to another time, another place, another memory. He wonders if he’ll ever hear it in the future and think back to now. He hopes so.

Bruce watches Darcy with a fond smile on his face, loves the way music seems to move her. Darcy extends her hand to Bruce once again and nods to an area that’s less crowded with a wicked smile, open invitation.

He just raises an eyebrow at her and she shrugs. "Guess I’ll have to dance by myself then" she says.

 Bruce isn't sure the way she moves can be called dancing, it's more like erratic swaying, but she's got a smile on her face and Bruce is mesmerised all the same. He catches sight of some guys looking at her, one actually sidles over to her but she politely says something in his ear and he casts a glance at Bruce, smirks and walks away.

Bruce makes a resigned sound and prays to god the music won't suddenly cut to a hideously romantic song as soon as he makes his way over to her, thankfully the playlist seems to be on his side.

 Darcy beams when she sees him and pulls him close. She crosses her hands loosely at the back of his neck and Bruce hesitates slightly before placing both his hands on her waist. She rests her head against his shoulder as they sway, looking up at the lights. She doesn't know it, but Bruce already has his eyes closed, just concentrating on the feel of her body in his arms.

This is a new experience for him. He’s never the one that gets the girl. It’s always Tony, and like Darcy said, he’s always the one in the kitchen or on the trampoline with a bottle of booze and a foggy head.

But here’s a beautiful girl who seems interested in him, he doesn’t want to forget anything about this moment. He really needs to learn the name of this song; he decides he’ll ask Darcy if she actually acknowledges his presence after tonight.

With this in mind, he feels giddy and significantly braver and says "you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen tonight" because it’s true and half the words are mumbled into her hair anyway.

She pulls back to look at him and laughs. “You’re crazy, man”

“I’m being serious!”

Darcy tilts her head slightly and then their lips are touching and the kiss is soft with the barest hint of pressure, Bruce is pretty sure they've stopped moving and her hands are now lying flat on his chest. Bruce stops kissing her but his eyes are still closed, his forehead pressed against hers. “Holy _shit_ , the boy can kiss,” she murmurs approvingly.

She lifts her mouth until its level with his ear "let’s go somewhere quiet" she whispers, and Bruce has seen all those crappy teen romcom’s that Clint is fond of. He knows what _somewhere quiet_ means and he can’t quite believe that tonight is turning into his night.  

They find themselves pressed against the staircase, her hands coming gently up to rest at his temples, carding through his hair.

"Calm down Bruce, I can feel your heart beat" she says but he doesn’t mind because he can _feel_ her smile against his cheek.

"Did you know the sound of the heart beat is actually made by the valves closing?" he doesn’t know why he says it. But it seemed awfully important at the time to say _something_ because Darcy’s lips are teasing the spot below his ear and if he comes in his pants right now he’ll die of embarrassment.

He expects her to tell him to shut up or to just push him away like every other girl does when he starts to blabber; he would do well to remember that Darcy Lewis is very much an exception to the rule. She looks up at him through thick lashes, cocking her head to one side and says “Really?”

Well that just sets him off.

"Yeah! And also the heart can continue beating when it’s separated from the body due to its electrical impulses." He should probably stop now.

Darcy grins disbelievingly "No way,"

Bruce nods and says “Every day, the heart creates enough energy to drive a truck 20 miles. In a lifetime, that‘s like equivalent to driving to the moon and back.”

“It’s so neat how you know all that,” she smiles sweetly at him. “Maybe I should keep you around to entertain me more often, science dude.”

Bruce very nearly proposes to her there and then. He thinks maybe that would be a bit hasty, so instead he ducks down to kiss her languidly, parting her lips with his own tongue and slowly licking into her mouth.

They stumble through the halls, touching and gasping and not wanting to let go of each other for even a second.

Darcy backs him up against a door when they finally make it upstairs and her hand reaches for the bulge in his pants and oh _lord_ , they really need to find a room.

Bruce wiggles the doorknob that is currently digging into his back and he falls into the room. It’s completely dark except for the tiny slither of moonlight from the half open window which illuminates Tony’s back- and nothing else, thank god.

“Taaaaken, ‘o away!”

“Charming,” He mutters and blunders back out into the hallway. Just before he goes he sees Tony roll off the body beneath him and catches pale skin and black hair of whoever Tony has clearly used as a substitute Pepper. _Poor girl_ , Bruce thinks but he has more important things on his mind.

+

_Get over him_

_Get over him_

Tony shifts in his sleep and wriggles closer to Loki.

Fuck. Who is he even kidding?

 

**Author's Note:**

> Very much a WIP, but we'll see how it goes. Let me know what you think!


End file.
